


Give me one more night with you (and you)

by novacorpsrecruit



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Identity Porn, M/M, Secret Identities, Secret Identity, They’re both idiots unfortunately, identity crisis, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novacorpsrecruit/pseuds/novacorpsrecruit
Summary: “Five million dollars,” Peter whistled to himself as he glanced at the headlines on the newsstand. It sounded fake. It sounded like winning the lottery – only to lose most of it to taxes. Five million dollars and Peter were not supposed to go together. Peter will never be that lucky.Spider-Man has to go into hiding, as a five million dollar bounty put over Spider-Man’s head. But that doesn't mean Peter can stop crime fighting. Unfortunately for him, Peter keeps running into a familiar face, causing him more trouble.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 12
Kudos: 295





	Give me one more night with you (and you)

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this after I read Identity Crisis last year and I finally finished it, but I didn't want to reread Identity Crisis again, so I'm ignoring canon except for the one (1) scene I borrowed when I first wrote it.

“Five million dollars,” Peter whistled to himself as he glanced at the headlines on the newsstand.

It sounded fake.

It sounded like winning the lottery – only to lose most of it to taxes.

Or a donation by Wilson Fisk to a local charity – only to find out its dirty money handed out by the Kingpin himself as he plans on rezoning the neighborhood.

Five million dollars and Peter were not supposed to go together. Unless Peter won that lottery and took his taxed dollars to the Caribbean to fight crime on the beaches and swing from palm trees.

But Peter will never be that lucky.

If he ever bought a lottery ticket in the first place.

Five million dollars.

A bounty put over Spider-Man’s head.

Honestly, Peter didn’t believe it. He scoffed at the idea, told Mary Jane that it was unbelievable and that it “didn’t bother him” because nobody would be serious about the bounty. Then he complained about it for the next hour and a half.

“If it doesn’t bother you,” Mary Jane finally interrupted. “Then show them.”

And he did.

Until he realized he had both criminals and police officers shooting at him.

So Peter did the most logical thing he could do.

Create four new secret superhero identities.

He could protect the city in a new way – with a new mask – and work on clearing his name.

What’s the worst that could happen? He’s already got a bounty on his head.

There were still some days that he missed swinging. It was cathartic for him. It was almost like he couldn’t get this mind clear anymore when he retired – _took a break_ – from Spider-Man.

It was when he first put on the Hornet wings he felt as if he could breathe again.

He could fly faster, steadier, higher and lower than he ever did swinging.

It was turning sharp corners that he struggled with – but he won’t admit that.

He even took Mary Jane out flying, which didn’t end as well as he planned as he caught a couple of birds in the propeller.

Luckily, Peter carried his trusty web shooters to save them. Mary Jane swore off flying though. “One near death experience a month.”

Peter has already hit his lifetime limit this week alone.

He stopped going out as Spider-Man all together, but he wasn’t stopping protecting the city.

The Hornet was well accepted. Even Norman Osborn was amused by the Hornet’s comments of not having to worry about Spider-Man.

But apparently, Johnny didn’t get the message.

As soon as the sun went down

As soon as the sun went down, Johnny lit up messages in the sky.

_The usual place @ 10_

But Peter couldn’t go.

Not as Spider-Man.

He couldn’t risk that. Not for him. And not for Johnny. He could be caught in the crosshairs of stupidity and greed.

If Peter went, he’d have to go in another costume.

But someone had to be looking for them, watching Johnny and following him to the Statue of Liberty. And whoever Peter decided to go as, would be exposed.

He had to work on keeping his other identities secret and separate from Spider-Man.

And it worked, at least for a bit.

It was two weeks before Peter ran into a problem.

“Whoa!” Peter pulled himself into a harsh stop. He was still getting a hang of the suit, although stopping wasn’t an issue for him, but stopping to avoid a literal hot trail of fire was a little difficult.

“You’re him, right?” Johnny said sharply. “The new guy? The Hornet?”

“Um… well,” Peter stumbled on is words. “Yeah, I –“

“I’m the Human Torch. Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four.” Johnny crossed his arms. He hovered in front of him, covered in flames, but he stood solidly. “I saw you on TV.”

“Uh… Yeah, well…” Johnny _knows_ him. He knows Spider-Man. Peter has always changed his voice between Peter Parker and Spider-Man, but Johnny would recognize Spider-Man’s voice. Peter might have to play up the Hornet’s southern accent – the one that Mary Jane had already informed him was terrible by itself.

“Well, lemme just tell you something, pal. Spider-Man and I are buds. We go way back,” Johnny said. Peter could feel Johnny’s fire burning. He felt hotter than usual. Maybe it was because Peter was wearing much more than his usual spandex. “A lot of people have been hunting him down for things I’m sure he has nothing to do with! I’ve never thought twice about it, ‘cause the guy could always take care of himself. But after your little comment about not having to worry about Spider-Man anymore –“

“Oh, That. Look. I’m not … um … I mean, Spider-Man isn’t –“ Gone. Dead. Smart enough to think four new secret identities through. God. What was Peter going to do? “I haven’t done anything with Spider-Man, Mr. Torch.”

“Good … for _you_. ‘Cause if anything has happened to Spidey, you’re the guy I’m gonna come looking for!” Johnny said, pointing a hot finger at Peter’s chest. “As a matter of fact, as of right now, you should consider yourself Spider-Man’s protector – I’m going to hold you personally responsible! If anything happens to _him_ , it happens to _you_ – only _hotter_! Get it?”

“Uh … yeah.”

“Good.” Johnny said, straightening up. He gave Peter a long glare. “Have a nice day.”

Peter watched as Johnny flew away, in awe … or dumbstruck. There was something … _special_ about Johnny caring. He wasn’t sure whether he should be intimidated by Johnny’s threats or if he should laugh or if he should be touched that Johnny cared about him at all.

He definitely … _felt_ something. He just couldn’t pinpoint the emotion.

“You’re kidding me, right?” MJ hearty laugh traveled across the apartment when Peter retold his meeting with Johnny from that afternoon. “You didn’t know Johnny cared?”

“Uh –“

“Over the last four weeks he’s called for you, like, six times,” She took the kettle off its base and poured the hot water into her mug. “Those calls aren’t hard to miss.”

“Yeah, well, if you were a superhero and I disappeared, you’d care,” Peter suggested. “I’m sure if Iceman and I were better friends, he’d call for me, too.”

“Not with flaming messages in the sky that ask to meet at ‘the usual place’,” Mary Jane raised her eyebrow as she dipped the tea bag into the hot water.

“First off, Iceman wouldn’t write with flames,” Peter said. “Secondly, I hang out with other heroes all the time! Like – Wolverine and I, we hang out at the Daily Grind sometimes. I’m sure we go there enough to call that the usual place.”

“You’ve never hung out with Wolverine.”

“But I could.”

“Wolverine wouldn’t end his messages with flaming, broken hearts.”

“Johnny didn’t write any hearts,” Peter wrinkled his brow.

“He might as well have,” Mary Jane shrugged, using the back of her spoon to squeeze the teabag before scooping it out.

“You’re reaching, not everybody is going to think that.”

“One of the tabloids I saw called him ‘the Heartsick Hero’.”

“Stop reading tabloids and read something educational,” Peter said, quickly grabbing one of the books off the bookshelf. He brushed the dust off of it, and extended it out to Mary Jane. “Like 'Dimensional Analysis and Scale-Up in Chemical Engineering’?”

“I’d rather read Osborn’s op-ed in the Daily Bugle,” Mary Jane rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. “How’s that going?”

“It makes me wish that the bounty was on Peter Parker’s head instead,” Peter sighed, sitting down on the couch. “I know Jameson has it out for Spider-Man, but calling out for the murder of someone doesn’t seem to fit the ethics of journalism.”

“You could quit,” Mary Jane sat on the other side of the couch.

“We’re already struggling to make rent,” Peter reminded. “And you have a place to go. I’d have to find somewhere else. Three’s a crowd.”

“You know that Gwen wouldn’t mind,” MJ said.

“No but I would,” Peter said. “I know what it’s like when she stays the night – it’s like you guys are 12 years old and having a sleepover. I swear to God, it’s like you guys are having a pillow fight.”

“That’s because we are,” Mary Jane elbowed Peter. “You’re always welcome to join. Bring Johnny. We can have a double date.”

“Stop that,” Peter said, lightly shoving MJ. “It’s not like that.”

“Whatever,” MJ rolled her eyes. “Now get up and try on your costume. I was promised a golden boy preview.”

\-----

Between Norman Osborn and the lack-of-Spider-Man in the news, Peter dreaded going to the Daily Bugle. Osborn’s presence just made it miserable, and he found it hard to keep biting his tongue every time Osborn spoke. He liked his job and he needed money. He can’t afford to get fired.

Especially not with the bounty over his head.

If he dared turned in a Spider-Man photo – which he knew would sell at a hefty price with Spider-Man in hiding – he would instantly be questioned about how he got it. He’s already on a tight watch for the slight suspicion of him _knowing_ Spider-Man. Some of the other photographers claim Peter pays Spider-Man for those photos. Others dispute it, as they tried to pay Spider-Man and they were told to ‘go bark up a different tree.’

The best Peter could do was turn in photos of his other identities and hope that he doesn’t get caught.

“Hey!”

Peter swore under his breath at that way-too-familiar voice.

He turned around, coffee in his hand and half a bagel in his mouth, to face Johnny Storm. “Parker, right?”

“Uh –“ Johnny didn’t know Peter – at least, not Peter Parker. He knew Spider-Man. They were friends. He just … never knew the face under the mask. “Yeah. Peter.”

“You work for the Bugle, right?” Johnny said. “Let me buy you a coffee.”

Was he being tricked? It was all an elaborate prank and Mary Jane was behind it. “I got one?”

“Right,” Johnny said, acknowledging the cup in his hand. “Then just let me borrow you for a minute. I need to talk to you.”

“With me? Why?” Peter asked, as he followed Johnny hesitantly to an empty table outside the coffee shop. Technically, he was running late. He should be going. He should be worried about Johnny recognizing him. And yet, he pulled the chair out to sit down. “Do you need me to take a photo of you pulling a cat from a tree? Or do you need new headshots, because I charge for those no matter how famous you are.”

“It’s not that,” Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Then my services are limited unless you want to pay my student loans,” Peter said, taking a bite of his bagel.

“I’m not here to pay your student loans,” Johnny said flatly. “It’s just that – we … have a mutual friend.”

“A mutual friend?” Peter repeated, swallowing his bite. Peter knows who Johnny’s talking about. Peter’s done his best to keep his personal life and Spider-Man’s life separate. He’s had limited interactions with Johnny out of the costume, quickly dismissing him to avoid any real conversations with him … well, up until this point. He kind of missed talking to the flame brain. But maybe Johnny knew. Johnny figured out and that’s why he’s wanting to talk to Peter. Peter swears that other than the Bugle byline, there is nothing that could connect him to Spider-Man. “Who? Mary Jane?”

“No, I – wait, Watson?” Johnny asked. “You know Mary Jane Watson?”

“Yeah.”

“The actress?”

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“How?” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Wait, never mind. I’m talking about –“ he lowered his voice. “Spider-Man?”

“What about him?”

“Our mutual friend,” Johnny said, as if Peter forgot what they were talking about.

“He’s not my friend,” Peter shrugged.

“But you got to know who he is – I mean, not under the mask – but in general,” Johnny said. “You had to have spoken to him before. I mean, you’re the guy who takes photos of Spider-Man –“

“A lot of photographers take photos of Spider-Man,” Peter countered.

“Not as clear as yours,” Johnny said. “Yours are the best. Front page of the Daily Bugle.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Storm.”

“I’m getting to my point,” Johnny huffed. Peter had to admit he liked it when Johnny was frustrated with him. He almost kind of missed it. “My friend is missing and I’m – we’re all worried. I just – wanted to see if you knew anything about him.”

“I don’t know where he is, Johnny,” Peter said as-of-matter-of-fact. “There’s a bounty over his head. Maybe he thought it was a good time to quit.”

“He wouldn’t just quit,” Johnny wrinkled his brow. “He’s not like that! I know him.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair. “I thought I did, too. Why the sudden interest?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been missing for weeks,” Peter said. “I’ve been scraping by because of that. Why are you suddenly worried now?”

“I’m – We – _The Hornet_ rubbed me the wrong way,” Johnny said. “He just didn’t feel right. Like he meant that he was gonna find Spider-Man and – Not that he can’t take care of himself. I just – we were –“

“Worried,” Peter said, regretting his words.

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed. “So, you’ll help?”

“Help?”

“Find him,” Johnny said. “Help me find Spider-Man.”

Peter bit his cheek. He needed to tell him no. To find a private investigator. Find anybody – except for him.

But there was something about Johnny that made Peter refuse to say no. Somehow, Peter dug himself into a bigger grave.

\-----

All of Ricochet’s outfit was Mary Jane’s idea. Mary Jane took Peter to the thrift store when they were searching for costume ideas. Peter wasn’t sure what they were looking for, Mary Jane told him that the costume had to come to them.

And it did.

Mary Jane found the leather jacket. It was surprisingly breathable material and could move easily. It had a giant “R” on the back with white accents. Peter wasn’t sure about it, but Mary Jane swore that inspiration was coming to her.

“Think Danny Zuko,” Mary Jane said and she handed the store assistant twenty dollars. “You’ll look great.”

“I’m going to hate it.”

He, unsurprisingly, didn’t hate it.

Mary Jane even threw in a few disc golf discs as weapons.

“I swear they’re worthwhile,” Mary Jane said, fitting the small plastic frisbees onto the jacket. “Gwen’s hit me with them a few times, and they hurt. I’ll be happy to donate them to you.”

“But they don’t look very threatening,” Peter said. He puffed up his chest and deepened his voice mockingly. “Stop, thief! Let me hit you with my neon green and orange tie dye frisbee! Fore!”

“Like crimson red and bright blue are threatening,” Mary Jane said, stepping back to admire her work. Everything looked near perfect – between the jacket, suit, boots and mask. Ricochet was nearly ready to hit the streets. But something seemed off. And it wasn’t the oddly colored Frisbees. She reached up and messed with Peter’s hair. “Your constant bedhead is gonna give away your identity.”

“So what?” Peter said, swatting her hand away as he tried to fix his hair. “Do we need to find a different mask?”

“No. I think I got an idea.”

Mary Jane and Peter decided that at least one of his new personalities should be a criminal.

“Just to mix things up,” Peter said. “Nobody would think Spider-Man would disguise himself as a villain.”

“Don’t get attached to the life of crime,” Mary Jane told him, fixing his wig as he was halfway out the window. “I won’t visit you on Ryker’s Island.”

“You think I’d get caught?” Peter winked. “Aw, that’s cute. Catch you on the flipside, MJ.”

He climbed out the window and worked his way to the rooftop. He wasn’t too thrilled about their plan – especially with the lack of webshooters. He had at least a four and a half mile trip to the Met, and he wasn’t looking forward jumping rooftop to rooftop. If he caught the red line, he could have an easy trip from Chelsea to Central Park. Then it wouldn’t be too much of a rooftop run to the Met.

To be fair, he had all night to get there.

Once Mary Jane suggested he’d rob the Met Gala he groaned.

Not because he didn’t think it would be possible or that he thought it would be too tough.

He just didn’t want to go.

But she convinced him.

“There’s photographers everywhere. You’ll get your name out there.”

“But it’s the Met Gala,” Peter groaned.

“I know, it sucks. Trust me,” Mary Jane winked. “But what other crime is going to have that big of an audience?”

“I could punch Matt Lauer on national television while he’s out with the crowd,” Peter shrugged. “I’d still hate being there, but at least I’d get to enjoy it for a minute.”

“Trust me,” Mary Jane said. “This will be perfect.”

Peter waited on top of the museum for his cue.

A flash of red entered his line of vision on the steps.

Bingo.

He jumped down, bouncing from ledge to ledge effortlessly.

“‘Scuse me, comin’ through!” He called, throwing a now gold disc towards an unsuspecting journalist. The disc bounced off the journalist’s microphone, causing him to drop it, and returning back to Peter.

He landed in front of the journalist, effortlessly shoving him out of the way. “‘Scuse me, sir, I have a couple of questions for the lovely ladies.” He turned around to face the couple. “Nice evening, isn’t it ladies?”

The girls looked gorgeous. Gwen’s hair was curled to perfection. Her dress looked like it belonged from the 1920’s if the Great Depression never happened and anyone could afford diamonds. It was made almost entirely of jewels that Mary Jane had previously lectured him that they weren’t diamonds.

Gwen took a step away from Peter — from Ricochet.

Mary Jane stepped in between them.

Peter got a sneak peak of her look before he left their apartment. Her dress was a two piece, a top made solely of the same jewels as Gwen’s. The bottom skirt resembled a mermaid, hugging her hips perfectly, then flaring at the bottom.

“You need something?”

“Not need necessarily,” Ricochet shrugged. “Want is more like it. The name’s Ricochet. But more importantly, who are you wearing?”

“Paolo Sebastian,” Mary Jane replied cautiously.

“Not the dress,” Ricochet reached for her gaudy necklace, gently holding it in the palm of his hand. “This.”

“An heirloom that once belonged to the Norwegian Royal family,” Mary Jane swatted Ricochet’s hand. He grabbed it, pulling it off.

“It’s priceless.”

“Worth millions,” Mary Jane reached for it, attempting to grab it back. Ricochet jumped out of the way, back onto a ledge.

“Finders keepers,” he laughed, working his way out through the Gala. He threw discs at any security that came his way and he swung through. He made a mental note to make sure any movement he did couldn’t be lead back to Spider-Man. He tried to ignore his spidey sense for anything that wouldn’t be in his line of sight. He did rely his spidey sense for any of the discs as they returned to him. Some with recoil, some using a little push with technology. Either way, the now golden discs found their way back to him.

“Hey!”

Peter swore under his breath.

Whatever god, deity or politician that controlled Peter’s fate really has it out for him.

“Sorry, no time,” Ricochet called.

A fire ball flew by his head. “I think you should consider making time.”

Of course Johnny would be at the Met Gala.

Peter jumped, grabbing the ledge of a fire escape of a nearby building and pulling himself up. He jumped from floor to floor, climbing the fire escape to the building’s roof. Without his webshooters, Peter’s stuck running away from Johnny.

“Hey! Stop!”

“I have a name, you know,” Peter called, haphazardly throwing two discs back at Johnny. “Ricochet.”

Johnny dodged one disc, burning the other. Peter rolled his eyes. Of course.

Johnny yelped as the first disc returned smacking him in the head on the way back. Peter turned around, grinning grabbing the disc. His grin fell when he lost sight of Johnny. 

“Flame brain?” He called instantly regretting it.

A chill ran up Peter’s spine. He ducked without thinking, barely missing the fireball that was clearly aimed for his head.

“What did you call me?”

“Slow.” Peter hit the ground running, jumping from this roof top to the next. There was no way Peter was going to be able to out run Johnny. He had the advantage. Peter’s not the one to hide, but he’s not going to fight Johnny. Especially when Johnny’s not going to try to hold back.

Peter ran, jumping to the next rooftop. He ran to the edge, throwing a disc behind him, hitting a metal pipe, cracking it. The disc bounced back to him as steam filled the air between him and Johnny.

“You think I’m afraid of steam?” Johnny laughed, flying through the clouded air. He reached the other side. He flamed off, feet planted on the ledge. He crouched looking between the two buildings. Ricochet was no where to be found. “Where’d you go?”

Peter sighed relief, as he sat flush against the emergency door of the yellow line. He reached into his jacket pocket pulling out Mary Jane’s prop jewelry, still in tact. She told him that she would have his head if anything happened to it.

“You’re wearing a $7,000 dress tonight and you worried about prop jewelry?”

“One of them I didn’t steal from the showcase,” she said while she was finishing her hair. “The other is a loan. I’m only wearing it for tonight.”

“Same with the jewelry,” Peter said, crossing his arms. “They just don’t know it’s on loan.”

“Return it tonight.”

He put the jewelry back in his pocket. For not being his girlfriend anymore, she sure still nags him like one. But he’s forever grateful that she’s still his friend and willing to keep his secret, even from Gwen.

Once he got close to downtown, he jumped from the train sticking to a nearby building. He missed his webshooters. He missed swinging. Jumping rooftop to rooftop isn’t the same.

Once he arrived at the theater, he jumped to the fire escape, making his way down to the fifth floor. He snuck in through the window that Mary Jane left unlock for him, placing the jewelry back into the showcase in the dressing room. Mary Jane explained the significance, an infamous actress changed her character’s jewelry to something more flashy on opening night, and every night of the show was sold out. The theater thought the necklace was good luck. Mary Jane said it was the actress herself.

Peter was relieved that it was no longer his business.

He used the dressing room to catch a quick breath, before taking off again, running a few blocks before catching the red line home.

He climbed through the window of his apartment, throwing his wig off and pulling his mask down. The first breath after taking the mask off always felt refreshing. Almost as exhilarating as the adrenaline — but in a calming way. He tossed his jacket over the wig, working the rest of his costume off to abandon in the corner of his room. He didn’t expect Mary Jane to return home tonight — Gwen lived closer to the Met and they usually spend the night together after a date night. Peter’s in for the night, until he has a hunger to get out some anger.

He threw on a t shirt and made his way to the kitchen, hoping Mary Jane left his leftover Chinese alone.

A knock made Peter jump and hit his head in the fridge.

Peter turned around and looked out the window.

“Fuck me,” he groaned.

Johnny waved. Peter set down his leftovers and walked to the window. He grabbed the television remote, turning it on and praying that it wasn’t left on some soap opera that Mary Jane was watching. 

Peter pushed the window open for Johnny. “You stalking me?”

“No,” Johnny said. He took a long pause. “Okay, maybe a little. But we need to talk.”

“About?”

“Can I come in?” Johnny asked. “It’s a little breezy.”

“Can you even get cold?”

“No, but eventually someone’s going to see me standing outside your window and assume I’m breaking in.”

“Fair point,” Peter pushed the window all the way open and stepped aside for Johnny. Johnny stepped inside. Peter caught Johnny’s full outfit – or what was left of it. He was fresh from the Met Gala, but his little bout with Ricochet showed that his outfit wasn’t completely flame proof. But Johnny still looked stunning. His white suit jacket was thinned, the edges burnt short and frayed. There was hardly enough left for Johnny to even wear it. His undershirt didn’t stand a chance in the high heat, leaving his bare chest exposed. Johnny wore an asymmetric … poncho made of diamonds on top of the suit – the only thing that really stood a chance against his heat. Some of the diamonds did look scorched, but it stayed intact. Johnny’s pants burnt, leaving him standing in his – assumingly – Fantastic Four brand fireproof underwear and his boots. Something in Peter’s stomach twisted as he brought his attention back to Johnny’s face. ”What’s with the diamond poncho?”

“They’re Swarovski crystals.”

“Okay,” Peter said, pausing. “What’s with the Swarovski poncho?”

“It’s a studded body chain for the Met Gala,” Johnny sighed, rubbing his face. “I ran into a new bad guy.”

“A new bad guy?” Peter raised his eyebrow. “What do you mean? The fashion police.”

“What – no!” Johnny wrinkled his brow in frustration. Peter smirked. Nothing brought him more joy than teasing Johnny. “I don’t know why you’re complain about my outfit with what you’re wearing.”

“This?” Peter looked down. The t shirt was pretty ratty. “Okay, yeah, touché. Tell me about your bad guy.”

“His name was Ricochet,” Johnny said, making his way into Peter’s apartment. He took off what was left of his jacket, hanging it over the back of the couch and sat down. Peter mumbled something along the lines of, ‘go ahead, make yourself at home’ as he followed suit. “He stole Mary Jane’s necklace.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s okay. He only took her necklace. She said it was an antique or something.”

“She told me it was a family heirloom.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. “She belongs to the Norwegian royal family?”

“Well, not her,” Peter backtracked. “Her girlfriend, Gwen. She does. Her father’s cousin’s brother is the current … king?”

“Makes sense,” Johnny shrugged. “But what doesn’t is that he seemed familiar. Like I knew him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he was Spider-Man.”

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ “What? How?”

“I don’t know,” Johnny stood up and paced the apartment. “It’s like, the way he moved. His voice was different — but I heard him. He called me flame brain.”

“Don’t a lot of people?” Peter tried to keep calm. Even if he blew his identity as Ricochet doesn’t mean Peter Parker needs to freak out.

“Not like that,” Johnny said. “It felt … different. I don’t know. Like I knew it was him.”

“Johnny, I don’t think it’s him,” Peter stood up. The longer they’re in his apartment together, the more Peter thought about the costume piled on the floor or his bedroom.

“You weren’t there!” Johnny yelled. Johnny was on the edge of flaming on. Peter could see Johnny fighting back tears. “You’re not his friend — I am.”

Peter realized Spidey is more than just a friend for Johnny. This isn’t a search for a friend, this is a search for someone Johnny loves. Peter should’ve known better. Mary Jane told him from the start.

Peter, for once, thought about what to do before letting his gut speak. He took a moment, changing his tone.

“You said it yourself. He stole from Mary Jane. Spider-Man wouldn’t do that,” Peter walked to his bedroom door. “I’m gonna get sweatpants on. If you want, to stay for pizza and a movie, you can.”

Peter took his bed cover, tossing it to the side, covering the costume on the floor. He grabbed a pair of grey sweats off the floor and put them on.

Peter wasn’t sure what he expected Johnny to do.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted.

He knew it was all his fault. That Johnny was hurting because Peter couldn’t stomach to tell him that he shouldn’t have to worry about Spider-Man because he’s right here.

Peter could tell him. He could go dig the suit out from his closet and hand it to Johnny. To tell him he’s okay, and to stop worrying.

But if he tells him, he might blow his cover. Whether he tells him that he’s spider-Man or if Ricochet tells him that Spider-Man’s alive and okay. If Johnny stops being heartbroken and stops searching for Spider-Man, someone might catch on and bring him into this mess.

And Peter doesn’t know if he could stop himself if Norman even thought about touching Johnny.

Peter stepped back out to the living room. Johnny sprawled out on the couch, still wearing his studded body chain. He had the remote in one hand, halfway watching TV. There was something beautiful about seeing Johnny like this. Not jeweled up specifically, but seeing him in an unguarded environment.

“Did you decide on pizza?”

“I’m good with pepperoni,” Johnny said making room for Peter on the couch. “You into Jurassic Park? It’s on in 15.”

“Yeah sounds good,”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter said, grabbing the phone from the kitchen counter, dialing the number for Eddie’s pizza by heart. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s only been out for what? A year?” Peter found his spot on the couch, listening to what seemed like endless ringing.

“More like five,” Johnny laughed. “It’s a good movie. You’ll enjoy it. You’d think that the dinosaurs are real.”

Eight slices of pizza, and 45 minutes into the movie, Johnny regretted suggesting watching Jurassic Park. He told Peter that he reminded him too much of Reed when he explained the bad science in the movie.

Almost an hour later, Peter woke up to the sound of a dinosaur roar. He jolted slightly. A weight on his chest kept him down. Peter moved his hand from his bare stomach, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He set his hand back down, not remembering when he fell asleep. He remembered the cheap pizza and complaining about the amber –

Johnny.

Peter opened his eyes. Johnny was asleep on his chest. Peter’s hands were resting on his bare back, holding him as he slept. Peter hesitated. He felt like he should move. Johnny and Peter technically aren’t friends. They barely know each other. But Johnny and Spider-Man? They’ve been best friends for years. They’re okay being intimate with each other. They were surprisingly touchy with one another – pulling the other in one direction or hugging when they needed the little extra support. But they’ve never watched a movie together. Never fallen asleep together. Until now, technically.

But part of Peter didn’t want to move. He wanted to fall asleep and pretend he never noticed. He wanted Johnny to make the choice to get up from their embrace. For Johnny to realize how close they were.

Peter slowly brought one hand up, hesitating before running his fingers through Johnny’s soft hair. Johnny stirred before settling back down against Peter.

Peter closed his eyes, mentally trying to take a picture of how they looked together – how Johnny looked. How his perfect blonde curls laid against his forehead and against Peter’s chest. How Johnny’s dumb not-diamond crystals sparkled with the night time light, almost as if he was dusted in stars. Johnny belonged in the nighttime sky. He shined brighter than any of the stars. Johnny was gorgeous when he flew, too. How the dangerous flames obey his every movement. How his blue eyes still pierce through the fire – and how they seemed to shine brighter after he flamed off. He thought about the smiles Johnny gave him tonight and how he laughed at Peter’s attempts to discredit Hollywood’s take on science.

Peter brushed Johnny’s hair out of his face.

God damn it.

Peter is in love with Johnny.

———--

Peter missed patrolling the streets at 2am. It helped clear his mind from overthinking. He missed the cool breeze against his face while swinging from building to building. He missed punching a thief in the face, hanging them up for a police officer to find an hour later.

But he found a way to get around that.

Dusk was set up to be a villain. He could sneak his way around the city with minimal surveillance. He took this opportunity to grab a few thugs off the street and shove them up against the wall — no webs, but it would do.

A good fight is all he craved.

He worked his way through the streets of Manhattan, pulling criminals into the dark alleyways, leaving them bruised and bloodied for someone else to find.

As he made his way further downtown, he saw Johnny fly by. He blended in with the environment and followed him as best as he could. For a moment, it felt as if Johnny was avoiding him, trying to shake him off his trail. Johnny ascended, and Peter followed.

He reached the roof top —

Johnny was there, fireball waiting.

“I can sense you,” Johnny said. “Your body heat gave you away.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Peter said, turning off his invisibility. He really didn’t. He wondered if this was something new for Johnny or something he always could do.

Johnny flamed off. The fire ball in his hand diminished. He studied Dusk for what felt like minutes before speaking up again. “Spidey?”

Peter tensed. “ _What_?”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Johnny lowered his voice. “Spidey?”

“I —“

“That suit is from the Negative Zone.”

Right. Peter should’ve known better. He was practically waving the Spidey suit like a flag in front of Johnny. “I’m okay,” Peter said. “I promise you, everything’s gonna be okay soon.”

Johnny looked away from Peter, wiping something from his eye, before looking back and embracing Peter. Peter took a section to process before he hugged Johnny back.

“We’ll be back to normal in no time,” he said. “Promise. We can go to the usual place and eat cheap hotdogs from Dirty Dan’s cart. My treat.”

Johnny laughed. His laugh was so sweet. It felt like carbonating from a soda letting go.

Before Peter knew it, Johnny pulled his mask halfway up and kissed Peter.

The kiss was soft and gentle and everything Peter didn’t know he needed. It was obvious that Johnny has felt this way for a while. Obvious to everyone except for Peter apparently. It felt like a wave of emotions washed over Peter. Johnny’s thumb gently pressed between the mask and his cheek brought warmth to Peter’s face.

Johnny pulled away slowly, his hand steady on the mask’s trim, studying Peter. Waiting for him to say something, for him to make a move. For him to admit to Johnny who he is under the mask — under Spidey’s mask.

Instead, Peter lightly took Johnny’s wrist and pulled it away from his mask.

“I have to go,” Peter said, pulling his mask down. He disappeared in front of him, stepping back on the ledge. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

—————

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, MJ,” Peter groaned, halfway in his compression shirt. “Just bury me in the ground already.”

“I don’t know why you decided Dusk was going to be a criminal,” Mary Jane sat on his bed, painting her toes. “You’re already way in over your head with Ricochet and Delilah.”

“Not that,” Peter said, pulling his head through the shirt. “I mean, that too.”

“You’re over your head with all your identities.”

“I know,” Peter sighed. He pulled his tights up, hoping from foot to foot. “And the more villains I get involved with, the more targets I get on my back.”

“I was talking about Johnny,” Mary Jane said. “You should tell him. Better now than later.”

“Tell him what?” Peter said putting on his boots. “That I think he’s cute?” He put on his gloves. “That I’m in love with him? That’s not going to workout at all. Johnny asked Peter Parker to help him find his crush. You said it yourself, the tabloids have been calling him a lovesick hero because he is. And if I, Peter Parker, tells him that I’m in love with him, he’s going to reject me because he’s still in love with me, Spider-Man.”

“I meant tell him that you’re Spider-Man, but I guess that’s one way of going for it,” Mary Jane said. “You could tell him you’re Spider-Man first, then ask him out.”

“That’s not going to go well after last night,” Peter groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair before picking up the chest piece of his costume.

“What happened?”

“I was out as Dusk and I followed him.”

“Dumbass.”

“It gets worse,” Peter said, locking the suit into place. He picked up his mask and put it on. “He sensed it was me by body heat —“

“I didn’t know he could do that.”

“Me neither. But he called me out,” Peter said. “He recognized the suit and kissed me.”

“He kissed you?” Mary Jane looked up from her pedicure. Finally looking at Peter suited up. “Pete —“

“I know,” Peter sighed. He started to pace the room. “I panicked. And I just left.”

“Pete —“

“I know!” Peter groaned. “I fucked up. I really did. Whether or not Johnny’s in love with Spidey, now he thinks Spider-Man hates him. And that couldn’t be more wrong.”

“I don’t think you can be either,” Mary Jane said.

“What?”

Mary Jane pointed to the mirror. Peter turned around.

He put on every wrong piece of clothing he could. He looked more like a monstrosity than a superhero. He managed to put on most of the Hornet’s suit, but matched it with a Spidey glove, Ricochet’s jacket, Prodigy’s belt and Dusk’s mask.

Mary Jane rolled off the bed laughing. “You look terrific Pete! Like a genuine superhero!”

“What was I thinking,” Peter pulled the mask off, tossing it aside. “Four identities? This is ridiculous! I don’t know what made me think this would ever work.” He threw Ricochet’s jacket on the ground. He pulled off the Spidey glove, holding it in his hand before putting it back on. He pulled off the hornet’s top. “I’m going out as Spider-Man.”

“What?” Mary Jane popped out from the other side of the bed, watching Peter as he pulled the Spidey suit out of the closet and put it on. “Pete, no. I was just kidding. Are you forgetting about the five million dollar price Norman Osborn put on your head? Or that everyone in the city is willing to forget all the good you’ve done for the chance to collect the reward?”

“MJ I have to—“

“You don’t,” Mary Jane frowned. “We talked about this. We agreed that different identities would allow you to continue all the good you do while working to clear your name — to find the real killer.”

“Sorry, MJ, it just doesn’t feel right,” Peter said finding the matching glove and putting it on. “This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been. I’ve got to do what feels right.”

“And what’s that?” Mary Jane stood up. “Risking your life just to wear red and blue again?”

“I need to talk to Johnny,” Peter said. “I’ll swing by after I talk to Arthur Stacy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not after last night, and you know it.”

“I have to make things right again,” he pulled Mary Jane into a hug and kissed her forehead. “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” She smiled. She kissed his cheek. “I love you too. But I’m staying at Gwen’s tonight. I don’t want you to come home and mope about because Johnny turned you down.”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

“You should try the Golden Boy with him,” she winked. “You’ll be a match made in Heaven.”

“I’ll mark that down as Plan C,” Peter stepped toward the window, pushing it open and climbed out of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Hope so,” Mary Jane said, as he leaped out of the window. She stepped closer to watch him swing away. She could swear she heard a cheerful “Whoop” in the distance. It was bittersweet seeing him back in his uniform. She could see him almost become himself again as he put on the suit. But it will come with a price. She just hopes that her best friend comes home in one piece.

—————

After his talk with Arthur Stacy, Peter made his way to the Baxter Building. He knew the route by heart, finding his way to Johnny’s room. He knocked on the window and waited, for what felt like eternity.

Maybe he shouldn’t have came.

Maybe Mary Jane was right.

This was a bad idea.

Peter stood up, ready to jump off the ledge when Johnny opened the window.

“Spidey?”

“Hey Flame brain,” Peter turned back around to face Johnny. A joke sat at the tip of his tongue, but a quick look at Johnny’s face said that he wasn’t amused. “I need to talk to you.”

“You need to talk to me,” Johnny half laughed. “Where were you all the times I needed to talk to you?”

“Johnny —“

“No,” Johnny said, stepping away from the window. “I can’t — I can’t do this.”

“I want to apologize —“

“For what?” Johnny asked. “For abandoning me? For keeping me in the dark for weeks? For ignoring my every message?”

“I have a bounty over my head Johnny,” Peter wrinkled his brow. “I couldn’t go out. Not dressed like this. I’d put both of our lives in danger —“

“But you can now?” Johnny asked. “What changed?”

“I found a way to clear my name,” Peter said. “I talked to a detective from the NYPD. I think I know what I need to do.”

Johnny looked Peter over, almost if he was trying to figure out if he was really there. “What did you mean ‘not dressed like this’?”

“Johnny.” Peter didn’t want to say it. Johnny knew what he meant. He’s smarter than he’s given credit for.

“What did you mean?”

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Peter said. “For the kiss.”

Johnny tensed up. “You should go.”

“Johnny—“

“I told —“ Johnny stopped himself, before continuing and correcting himself. “I told a friend that you aren’t a villain. That they didn’t know you. That they weren’t friends with you and they didn’t know the real you. But I don’t know the real you anymore.”

“I’m sorry Johnny,” Peter said. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Peter felt his stomach twist. He wanted to make things right, but now’s not the time. Johnny’s right, he was still putting both their lives at risk by being at the Baxter Building. He jumped from the ledge, making his way home.

He almost didn’t care anymore. He fought the entire way home – sloppy and hard. Stopping any criminal on his way home. He didn’t care if they saw who he was, or if they tried hard to hit him back. He took a few punches – clouded judgement with Johnny’s words dancing around in his head.

_“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”_

Peter took a hit in the gut. A second hit came across his face.

“Five million dollars richer,” the thug laughed. He started for another swing before Peter hit him, knocking him back. He took him by the shirt and threw him up against the wall.

“Your luck’s run out,” Peter said, webbing him to the wall before swinging off.

He made it home, stripping himself of his suit and stepping into the shower.

He let the hot water roll down his body, attempting to wash away any feelings. But the feeling in his gut stayed. He remembered how Johnny looked at him, how his body tensed up when he mentioned Dusk. He remembered the kiss they shared and how soft Johnny’s lips were. And how he never wanted to go a day without kissing him again.

He climbed out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and made his way to the kitchen.

A soft knock at the window froze him in place.

No.

Not tonight.

Any night but tonight.

Johnny knocked again.

Peter turned around.

Johnny waved innocently.

Peter ran his hand through his hair, sighing. He could ignore Johnny. Go back to his room and pretend he wasn’t there.

He looked back at Johnny. Who gave him a small smile.

God damn it.

Peter went to the window and pushed it open.

“What’s up Fireface?”

“Don’t like that,” Johnny said with a smile, climbing through the window. “Thought we could talk for a bit.”

“I … guess so,” Peter said. “Let me put on some clothes.” He gestured to the messy apartment, thankful he stripped in his bedroom this time. “Make yourself at home.”

He went into the bedroom and threw on a shirt that was halfway on his bed. He couldn’t remember if it was actually clean, but it wasn’t on his floor. He did pick up a pair of basketball shorts off the ground and put them on. He went back into the bathroom and washed his face with cool water before sneaking his suit into the dirty hamper.

He ran his fingers through his hair, moving it out of his face. He needed to be cool. Johnny wasn’t onto him. Johnny didn’t have a fight with _him_. But Peter was still upset with him. His rejection was still fresh in his mind. He hurt Johnny. Johnny didn’t want to talk with him.

No.

Johnny didn’t want to talk to Spidey.

Johnny _wants_ to talk to Peter.

Peter sighed, running his fingers through his hair again before going back out to the living room.

Johnny was sprawled out on the couch, hanging off the edge, reading the newspaper. He looked cute upside down.

“Is this how you sit on your couch at home?” Peter laughed. He sat down next to the couch, taking a peek at the newspaper Johnny was reading. He bit his cheek.

“Was this the last time you saw him?” Johnny asked quietly. The article was the first published regarding the bounty. The photo had a picture of Spider-Man swinging toward the photographer in Manhattan. “This photo, I mean?”

“No,” Peter said. He knew that day. He took the picture the morning before a fight with Electro knocked out the power for almost all of Brooklyn. “It’s a stock photo.”

Johnny nodded. “I saw him tonight.”

“Who? Spider-Man?”

“Yeah,” Johnny nodded. “He came over.”

“What?” Peter looked at him, eyebrow raised. When he first started, Mary Jane said he was a bad liar. That his face gave away everything. Peter was lucky that nobody believed that the lanky, nerdy high school freelance photographer was Spider-Man. As he grew up and filled out, he got better at lying. Mary Jane still said he was terrible. “What did he say?”

“He wanted to apologize,” Johnny said, sitting up right. “For leaving me in the dark.”

“What did you tell him?”

“To fuck off,” Johnny laughed, moving to the ground next to Peter. “I needed some space from him. I think the only reason he came over was because — I kissed him the night before.”

“What?”

“I saw him last night,” Johnny said. “He was wearing Dusk’s costume from the Negative Zone. I don’t think he meant for me to see him, but I could feel his heat. And he said something that I thought meant he missed me in the same way. And apparently I was wrong. He took off.”

“What if you weren’t?” Peter suggested. “And he just wasn’t expecting you to kiss him?”

“What?” Johnny asked, turning to look at Peter. “Why would you think —“ Peter watched as Johnny’s eyes locked into something on his cheek. He reached over, gently running his thumb over Peter’s cheek.

Peter winced.

Shit.

A bruise.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked. “When did this happen?”

“I got into a fight on my way back from work,” Peter said, brushing Johnny’s hand away from his cheek. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“That’s usually what people say when they were hit worse.”

“I know you’ve seen worse,” Peter laughed. “This is nothing.”

“Yeah but that’s my job,” Johnny said. “You shouldn’t have to worry about being jumped.”

“You also don’t need to baby me,” Peter said. “I can handle myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Johnny said. “You’re my friend, and I hate to know that apparently fighting is a part of the job description at the Bugle. That’s all I’m saying.”

“To be fair, I was on my way home,” Peter said. “Plus, Norman Osborn now owns the Bugle, it’s hard to not want to start a fight daily.”

Johnny opened his mouth to retort, knowing he wasn’t going to get the reaction he wanted, when someone knocked at the door. Johnny stood up to answer the door. Peter wrinkled his brow. “I ordered some takeout.”

“When?”

“You were taking your time to change into basketball shorts,” Johnny said, sitting up right. “I was starving.”

“Did you order enough to share?” Peter laughed.

“Of course,” Johnny opened the door and handed the delivery man cash. The man gave him a large plastic bag full of takeout containers. “I kind of ordered a lot, since I didn’t know what you liked.”

“I like a lot,” Peter shrugged, taking the bag of takeout from Johnny’s hands. He pulled out the containers and put them out on the coffee table. “Maybe we can find Jurassic Park on tv again and watch the second half.”

They ended up settling on Mary Jane’s rental copy of ‘An Interview with a Vampire’ while they ate.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Peter finally said, shoving fried rice into his mouth. “With Spider-Man.”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, twirling his lo mein around his chopsticks. “Me too.”

“I really think he just was probably taken off guard,” Peter suggested. “I don’t think he meant to run.”

“I don’t know, Pete,” Johnny shrugged. “You weren’t there.”

“That’s how I’d feel if you kissed me,” Peter said. “Surprised, I mean.”

Johnny shrugged again, taking a mouthful of lo mein. He knocked his shoulder into Peter’s. “Thanks for letting me complain,” Johnny said. “I appreciate our movie nights.”

“Me too,” Peter said. He really did. He didn’t care much about the movie, he enjoyed the time spend with Johnny. He missed swinging and crime fighting with Johnny – but this is a new type of affection between the two. Except, for Johnny, this is all new. “Can … I complain?”

“Of course,” Johnny said, shoveling more food into his mouth. “That’s what friends are for.”

“So I have this … friend,” Peter said slowly. He thought carefully about how he strung his words together, hoping to not give anything away. “Who’s probably my best friend, but I kept a secret from them. And now, that secret’s gotten bigger and tangled and … I don’t know how to fix everything.”

“That’s not how complaining works,” Johnny said with a half-laugh. “Advice? Come clean. It’s better to be honest than for them to find out the hard way.”

“Right,” Peter sighed. He leaned his head back on the couch. He should come clean now. Tell Johnny everything. “I should just come clean.”

“In the end, you can still be their friend,” Johnny elbowed Peter. “You just have to earn their trust back.”

“Trust,” Peter said, setting his chopsticks down. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if I ever heard you at a loss for words,” Johnny joked. “That bad?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “That bad.”

“Peter?”

Peter turned his head to look at Johnny.

Johnny leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was as soft and gentle as the night before, but it felt different. It didn’t feel like Johnny longed for this, like he did with Spider-Man, but it was sweet and warm, sending heat through his body like a summer’s breeze through his veins.

Johnny pulled away slowly.

Peter’s hand caught Johnny’s chin stopping him. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them. He left Johnny last time, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. He hurt Johnny. He didn’t know how to react and he hurt him. He has a second chance to make things right. To tell Johnny the truth. That he loved him. That he wanted to be with him. That he was Spider-Man.

Johnny pulled away, putting his hand on Peter’s chest to keep him back. “I can’t.”

Or make things worse.

“You can’t?”

“I … shouldn’t,” Johnny said. “Not yet, at least. I’m still … heartbroken. From Spidey. And I don’t want you to feel like a rebound.”

So much worse.

“Right,” Peter said straight up.

“And you probably need to work on your friend thing,” Johnny suggested. “Because if they mean more than just a friend to you …”

“Then it wouldn’t be fair to you,” Peter said, nodding. He leaned his head back on the couch. One day, maybe something would go right for Peter. Maybe he wouldn’t mess things up from the beginning. “We can still be friends right?”

“Of course,” Johnny said, bumping his shoulder against Peter’s. “Who else am I going to complain to? Ben doesn’t have ears.”

Peter laughed. “I’d complain to MJ, but she’s hardly ever here.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“What do you mean?”

“We can always count on each other to talk,” Johnny said. He put fist up. “Deal?”

Peter bumped his fist against Johnny’s. “Deal.”

\-----

Peter loved going out as Prodigy.

Everyone loved him.

He was everything a superhero was supposed to be.

“The Golden Boy,” Mary Jane called him. “Here to save the day from mischief and nuisance.”

And, apparently, men in Rhino suits who decide to knock down buildings in Manhattan.

Peter worked on saving people from the buildings until the firefighters arrived and took over.

Then he changed his target.

The Rhino glanced at him, before running into another building.

Peter jumped, stopping the rubble from landing on citizens on the street.

“Rhino!” A voice called from above.

Shit.

Johnny flew in, throwing flame balls at the Rhino, attempting to corner him.

The Rhino laughed before running out of sight. Peter could hear a loud bang – a construction crane began to fall, Johnny in its path.

“Torch!”

Johnny couldn’t move in time. The crane hit him.

Peter saw Johnny fall through the sky – flamed off.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He dropped the rubble from the building and pushed off, leaping from one building to the next. This would be so much easier with his webshooters. But he couldn’t. Not with the crowd watching. But the more time he wasted – he couldn’t think about it.

Once Peter was close enough, he moved his gauntlets ever so slightly revealing his webshooters and pulled Johnny into his arms. Hopefully he was far enough the ground nobody could see them.

Peter stuck to the wall, holding Johnny in his arms, searching for a sign that he was alright. Johnny stirred, slowly waking back up. Peter sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against Johnny’s before he remembered which costume he was in. He straightened back up, assuming character.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“I took a hit from a crane,” Johnny half-laughed. “No I’m not alright, but I’ll get by. You are?”

“Prodigy,” Peter said. “Pleasure serving you and other New Yorkers.” 

Johnny looked Prodigy up and down before letting out a chuckle. “Yeah,” Johnny nodded. “You’re always welcome to serve me.”

Peter was stunned – he wasn’t expecting that from Johnny. “I’m sorry?” Peter asked. “Are you suggesting that you’re going to look for other damseling situations?”

“I wasn’t,” Johnny said. “But, if I do, are you going to _serve_ me?”

“Of course,” Peter said. He lifted his mask slightly, just enough to bare his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against Johnny’s. He pulled away, with a sly smile and pulled the mask back down. “Guess who?”

Johnny’s face went through several emotions quickly and suddenly. At first, he was confused. This new hero kissed him. _Kissed him._ The audacity to take Johnny’s flirting and beat him at his own game. But not only that – joked about his identity.

Then it hit him.

The realization.

No.

Johnny wrinkled his brow, studying Prodigy. His eyes mapping his every feature, comparing it to a mental image. He reached out and touched Prodigy’s (prosthetic) nose. His face relaxed, almost as if he’s trying to fight the urge to say –

“Spidey?”

Peter nodded, releasing his grip off the building. He tightened his grip against Johnny as he jumped to the ground. He held onto him for a moment longer before helping him back on his feet.

“There you go, fellow hero,” Peter said, brushing dirt off of Johnny’s shoulder. “Perfect as always Mr. Torch,” Peter nodded, stepping back. “I hope to see you around.”

He leaped back onto the building, chasing after the Rhino, leaving with more anger than he arrived.

The Rhino better hope he could get away.

\-----

After weeks of hard work and secret identities, it all finally paid off.

After convincing the Trapster to confess for the murder and producing false evidence to suggest that Jack O’Lantern or Conundrum disguised themselves up as Spider-Man to frame him, Peter finally cleared his name. An unfortunate downfall for Norman Osborn, but not like Peter cared what Norman Osborn thought.

He was just glad things could go back to normal.

Or close to normal.

What he absolutely wanted to do was talk with Johnny.

Spider-Man swung to the Baxter Building, knocking on Johnny’s window.

Johnny didn’t answer.

Peter sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and webbing it to the window. It was easier to catch Johnny at night – but if he wanted to meet Johnny at his home, he would’ve. He wanted to give Johnny the option to come to him, rather than cornering him in his home. Johnny knew what he wanted to talk about, and Johnny wasn’t comfortable last time. Peter didn’t want to force Johnny into a conversation he didn’t want.

So he gave him a time and place.

_10 PM USUAL PLACE_

He drew a crudely drawn spider to show it was from him.

Not like the webbing gave it away.

At 10 pm, Peter sat at the Statue of Liberty, waiting.

He’s been there a lot longer than he’d like to admit and he waited more than he would’ve waited for anything else.

He was stood up.

He knew this was a possibility, but didn’t think Johnny would actually do it.

Peter wondered if he was ever going to earn Johnny’s trust back.

Peter went home, frustrated and searching for a fight. He found a couple of thefts and D grade villains to web up, but nothing was filling the hole in his gut.

Peter found his way back to his apartment and climbed through the window. He slumped down next to the window sill and threw his mask on the ground. He leaned back, banging his head against the window sill with a big sigh.

He blew it.

A loud thud came from the kitchen.

Shit. Gwen.

Peter looked up, catching those blue eyes, wide in surprise.

Worse.

Johnny.

“Johnny — I —“

“I guess the secret’s out, huh?” Johnny said, picking up the phone he dropped and hanging up. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god, I’m the friend.”

“Johnny—“

“And I thought you were talking about coming out —“

“What?”

“That you being gay was your secret,” Johnny laughed. “That you were lying to your friend about being gay.”

“Oh.”

Johnny ran his hand over his face. “I asked you to help me look for you.”

“Johnny, I’m sorry.” Peter stood up. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Stop,” Johnny said. Peter stopped in place. “I came here to talk to Peter, not Spidey.”

Peter blinked. “Okay,” he said slowly, not sure exactly what Johnny meant.

“Hold please,” Johnny said as he dialed a number and waited patiently on the phone. After a moment, he greeted the other person and ordered pizza, followed by Peter’s address, before hanging up. “Okay, Pete.”

“Did you just —“

“I was supposed to meet Spidey tonight,” Johnny interrupted, putting the phone back on the receiver and walked to the couch. “He left me a note asking to meet at the usual place. That’s the Statue of Liberty. And I didn’t go.”

“I know —“

“I chickened out,” Johnny said.

“You chickened out,” Peter repeated. “Why?”

Johnny beckoned Peter to come to the couch. Peter hesitated before walking over to Johnny, sitting next to him. “I knew he wanted to apologize, and I wasn’t ready to accept it.”

“Oh.”

“I also knew,” Johnny said, kneeing Peter. “That he might suggest us trying to date, because we kissed again.”

“… again?” Peter played along.

“Again,” Johnny said. “As the Golden Boy.”

“Prodigy,” Peter corrected, wrinkling his brow. “Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?”

“Yes, but …”

“But?”

“I kind of like someone else now.”

“Oh,” Peter slumped. He lost his chance. He wasn’t sure how much of a fighting chance he had. He wanted Johnny — but he also loves Johnny. If he wanted Johnny to stay in his life, he might have to let go.

“Peter.”

Peter looked at Johnny.

Johnny leaned in and kissed him. “You’re who I want.”

Peter crashed his lips against Johnny’s, kissing him hard. Johnny was here and wanted him. Peter wasn’t letting go. Not without a fight. This is everything he wanted. Everything he was fighting for. And he could tell, Johnny felt the same way.

There was a knock at the door. Johnny pulled away.

“You might go change,” Johnny suggested.

“Do you have a problem with my suit?” Peter laughed, before getting up to change.

“No, but the delivery man might,” Johnny said, opening the door and paid for the pizza.

He brought the pizza back to the couch, setting it on the coffee table. Peter came back into the room with a sweater and briefs. He threw in another rental movie in the VHS player, courtesy of Mary Jane. Whatever it was, they weren’t going to be paying attention to anyway. It’s just background noise now.

Johnny sat on the couch, taking a piece of pizza. Once Peter was on the couch, Johnny leaned into him.

“When we’re you going to tell me?” Johnny asked.

“Before the bounty? I didn’t have plans to,” Peter admitted. “After I figured out I was in love with you? As soon as my name was cleared.”

“I’ll be honest,” Johnny said. “I’ve felt this way for a while. I probably didn’t realize it until a couple of years ago.”

”I’m sorry for it all,” Peter said. “I didn’t mean to lie to you and keep you in the dark. I didn’t realize until later how much you cared.”

“When we’re you going to tell me about the other identities?”

“I didn’t mean for you to run into all four.”

“All four?”

“Prodigy, Dusk, Ricochet, and the Hornet.”

“The Hornet?” Johnny sat up. “You’re fucking with me?”

“Nope.”

Johnny crashed back into Peter, burying himself into Peter’s shirt. “I practically told you that I was in love with Spidey.”

“In your defense, I was too dumb to realize that at the moment.”

“How about now?” Johnny said, leaning up off of Peter. “Are you too dumb to realize what I mean by this?”

Johnny leaned in and kissed Peter.

Peter knew exactly what this meant.

That he didn’t need to pretend anymore.

That Johnny was here and his.

That there was no where else that he wanted to be.

There was _no one else_ he wanted to be, except for Peter Parker.

But, in the end, that everything was going to be okay.


End file.
